


To Wars and Back

by inkkedalone



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Multi, PJO AU, Slight OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkkedalone/pseuds/inkkedalone
Summary: Keith wakes up in a dumpster with memory loss and things escalate from there.{PJO/HOO AU taking place in the SoN, but knowing the AU isn't really needed to read this}*Initially written for Kallura Week: Alternate Universe, but it took too long so whatever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slow updates, but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [T-Rating: Canon-Typical Violence, Language]
> 
> Beta-read by my lovely irl friend~

KEITH WOKE UP feeling like he had been left to drown in a river made out of liquefied pain. His limbs ached like hell, throbbing in places he didn’t even know existed. He groaned aloud as his mind struggled to form a coherent thought against the ceaseless pain racking his skull. He opened his eyes blearily, only to be met with the calming sight of trash bags. Trash bags that smelled like somebody had tossed rotting corpses into the middle of the alley. The teen gagged, trying his best not to throw up.

Clumsily, he climbed up on top of the dumpster he was in, hopping onto the concrete ground with a pained grunt. His eyes teared up and his nose burned as he jostled himself around. He had to get away from the stench or else he just might die. Keith Kogane, as he remembered his full name, stumbled out from the alleyway like a drunkard—disoriented and lethargic. The air around him was mercifully cool, quickly drying the sweat he had managed to work up.

People came and went across the sidewalk that the male faced, completely ignoring him as they went about their day. The weather was cloudy and overcast, making it hard to tell whether it was afternoon or morning. Maybe it was somewhere in between. He reached out to a woman with a slower pace, mouth halfway open with barely a syllable before she spat, “Sorry kid. Don’t got no extra cash.”

The woman stalked away quickly, as if the conversation was something to be feared. Keith huffed. Maybe he did wake up in a trash bin, but that didn’t mean that people could be so rude. He needed help—couldn’t they see that?

He pondered his situation, thinking of things that he would usually do. Panic filled his senses when he couldn’t remember exactly _what he would do._ His brain hurt every time he tried to think of what  had happened before his current point in time, like there was some sort of mental barrier preventing him from properly accessing his memories. Keith growled and punched the wall of the shop next to him with the side of his fist. _Keith._ His name was all he knew besides his basic human and social functions.

The teenager — teenager! He was sixteen, he thought. Grinning triumphantly, he pumped a fist in the air. Out of the corner of his eye, a mother pulled her children closer to herself. His hand shot back down in  slight  shame. Of course, he probably looked like a homeless person. No wonder they didn’t like him. Wait.  _Was_ he homeless? He contemplated the thought deeply. Unlike his name, gender, and age, it didn’t come to him at all.

Maybe the best thing to do was just to start walking, and to probably gain a change of clothes. One sniff at himself had Keith feeling disgusting and  terribly  unhygienic.  He might not have showered for weeks. Gods, he had no idea where to start.  _Gods._ He took a mental note of his phrasing and started  searching .  He’d know things eventually.

He shuffled past the crowds on the sidewalk and stopped to examine himself in a shop window. Knowing what he looked like seemed to be helpful. At a glance, he appeared to be a walking disaster. His dark hair was shoulder-length, unruly, and matted with dirt. It was a strong contrast to the elegantly-dressed people around him. He supposed that he was in a richer area. His monolid eyes were a bleary violet color with heavy bags underneath. His lightly tanned skin was greenish and sickly. He felt some toned muscle mass on his limbs and core, but a lack of use made them annoyingly sore. Before he could study himself further, his stomach growled rather loudly. He briefly wondered when the last time he had a meal was.

To sum it  all up, Keith was a fun combination of feeling and looking like complete shit. He grimaced at himself and  continued to walk. After maybe an hour or two, he got nowhere  memory-wise ,  but he was at least a percentage cleaner. The boy  had stumbled across a gym and sneaked in through a back door, using the  public showers to his advantage and thoroughly scrubbing off all the grime that had accumulated on his body. His clothes, which were a set of  had been just  a plain t-shirt and jeans, had been soiled, so he tossed them and stole some retro-looking  attire from some poor  man’s open locker.

Now, wearing a  strange  cropped red jacket over a black tee and jeans, Keith felt like a n edgy biker from the 80s. His body may have felt clean, but his mind was unfortunately just as much of a mess as it was before.  From the sights he discovered, he figured that he was in a tourist-area somewhere in San Francisco. It felt all wrong. Keith had a sneaking suspicion that he was from somewhere very far from here.

The sun was still nowhere to be seen, but the shadows were getting longer and the air was getting colder. The thin, faux leather of his new jacket did a little to protect him from the chills anyway, but the fact that it was cut off just below his rib-cage left the rest of his body shaking like a leaf in the wind. His teeth chattered and he rubbed his arms in a futile effort to get warm. The streets were basically empty now—the air being too freezing to be out.

Something  snarled loudly behind him,  but Keith blatantly ignored it. He wasn’t in the mood to be part of a scene.

“I smell demigod!” Somebody cried.

“A son of war, no doubt!” Another voice sneered. Keith thought he was listening to a cheesy play scripted by middle-schoolers. He turned around, ready to snap at whoever was advertising their stupidity in the middle of the evening, but was quickly stopped by the sheer amount of _ugliness_ that he saw.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Keith generally thought he was a pretty okay person from the amount of things he’d uncovered about himself. It was just that the two women behind him had been nothing like he had ever seen in his few short hours of being awake. They had scaly skin, like they were half dinosaur or something, and their pupils were reptilian slits. Leathery wings grew out of their backs like vines. Their humanoid limbs morphed into claws about halfway down the joints as well, but that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part, was that they had _live snakes_ for hair _._

Keith’s eyes widened and he gulped hard. Hundreds, maybe thousands of little striped garden snakes protruded from the women’s scalps like normal hair would, and it was just _unnatural._ They stood in front of a grocery store, a Bargain-Mart, if Keith could see properly from the distance he was at. They both wore retail-store uniforms and held platters of sample food even though the store had been long closed.

The disposition of the ladies seemed friendly enough, but every single bone in Keith’s body urged him to flee. The creatures— _monsters_ _—_ his mind helpfully supplied, started to creep closer to him, and that was all he needed to start sprinting in the other direction. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew that he had to get away. Maybe to a weapons store, so he could either shoot himself or the monsters. Either one would be fine, since he was certain that none of this could ever be real. Not him, not them, and not the cursed city.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I'd post the chapters that I've already written a little quicker until I catch up with myself. There's still not an exact updating schedule though, so please keep that in mind!

RUNNING AWAY had basically described Keith’s entire life. Well, for the next few months after he woke up in that pile of garbage, it did.

With nothing but the clothes he stole and a useless pocketknife he found near the sewers, the boy had spent the last six months running around in circles across the city of San Francisco, trying to get away from the two monsters he had discovered on the first day. Soon after he encountered them, he learned that their names were Euryale and Stheno, and that they were a certain type of specialty called _gorgons._

“Isn’t that just Medusa, though?” he had asked them one night.

“Oh, it’s always about _Medusa,_ isn’t it?” Euryale had screeched.

“Well, she’s the sister who got killed by him! Would you like a sample?” Stheno had whined. She had kept her uniform and sales-employee act throughout the chase, while her other sister had quickly shed them like snake skin after they had found Keith. He briefly wondered if they did actually shed their _scales_.

From what he’d gathered, he’d somehow murdered the monsters’ sister, so now they were out for revenge—specifically the one that involved killing him. Spectacular, right?

It actually kind of was.

They were annoying and were trying to murder him, yes, but they couldn’t _actually_ kill him _._ Their claws dug at his skin, but they felt like paper-cuts and didn’t even mark his skin. The only downfall was that they, also, like him, couldn’t seem die either—at least not for long. And unlike _them_ , he didn’t think he could turn into dust and then reform again, so he just stuck to running.

The good thing was that the gorgons had helped him learn a bit more about himself and the world he supposedly lived in. They kept telling him again and again that he was a demigod, a son of a war god named Ares. And that they could smell his delicious meat, which was just plain freaky. He’d pretty much accepted it at that point, though. He’d even discovered that there were multiple _gods,_ which explained his own phrasings at times when he was frustrated or surprised. But other than that, it was all he knew. Keith just figured he’d keep them around because there was always a chance that they would tell him more—between Stheno’s sales advertisements.

It currently was the 186th day of the chase, and the demigod could feel himself wearing thin. Whatever magic spell that had been placed on him must have been running out. It was getting harder and harder to keep going with only an hour or two of sleep, and Keith was just surprised he hadn’t collapsed dead in the middle of the city yet.

“Come get your samples, you filthy half-blood!” He figured that that had been another term for demigod. “These wieners won’t taste themselves! Some have blood from the each side of my body—the blood from the right side of my body will heal any injury, but the ones from the left will give you a painful death! Teehee!”

Stheno was yelling about her samples again and Keith wrinkled his nose in disgust. Euryale shoved her aside, growling. “Cut it out, you moron! The Bargain-Mart thing was only an act!”

“Get your samples!”

Keith shook his head, a little amused at their bickering. He shouted, “Come and get me, you stupid monsters!” He started to sprint at breakneck speed like he usually did, but his lungs felt like they were going to explode. This was getting bad. He probably had a couple more hours, maybe a day if he were lucky, to throw off these losers forever.

A pull at his gut (wow, wish he had felt that before he started feeling like his legs were going to fall off) urged him to go left, so he swiveled off of the main road into some unlucky tenant’s backyard, cursing and stomping through some nicely planted tulips. He jumped the fence like a madman, using a kid’s playset to help him up.

The gorgons didn’t seem to be getting as exhausted as he was, and they only quickened their pace as they neared. The teen panted hard as he stumbled up a snowy hill. He paused, flicking the rusted blade of his pocketknife open from where he had pulled it out of his pocket. His sweaty hands fumbled in the cold of January, shaking as they touched the metal.

“Oh, _honey_!” the gorgons screeched in scary unison, “You know that can’t hurt us.”

Even if it didn’t, something else could. He had seen them both get run over by cars, by metro, by train, and even beaten to ‘death’ by an angry grandma who thought they had been a reincarnation of evil spirits. In a way, she hadn’t been wrong.

“Well then, what’s stopping you?” he said, almost tauntingly. He turned to start going again, but was halted by the steepness of the other side of the hill. It slid down to an interstate that was blocked only by a flimsy wire fence; the bustling of cars going at seventy miles per hour had Keith hesitating. There was no way he’d be able to run down properly in the snow without tripping and falling.

He cursed violently, knowing that he was cornered. The gorgons, previously at the bottom of the hill, had gotten to the apex in less than half the time he did, with them having the power to fly and all. They flapped their wings hard, pushing the dry, freezing-degree air right into Keith’s face. His skin burned more than it usually would.

His gut continued to drag him somewhere, telling him to go down. Unfortunately there was nothing except death by middle-aged folks waiting to run him over with their fancy BMW's down on the interstate. The teen squinted his violet eyes, searching for something that stood out. A maintenance tunnel was in the middle of the roads, underneath a bridge. _Go, go, go!_ It looked completely normal. _GO!_ The voice in his head wasn’t having it. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, pretty reluctant to send himself into a speedy death.

The gorgons were getting impatient. They swiped at him with their terrifying claws, and he tried not to grunt when he actually felt some form of pain. Although it wasn’t like they broke skin, it sure felt like someone had repeatedly punched his arm. He dodged as much as he could, trying to think of some way out, until Stheno shouted, “Just eat the samples, you useless vermin!”

_The samples!_

He eyed the snack tray, amazed that it even lasted this long. It was dented in odd places, but it would work. It had to. “Fuck your samples, gorgon!” He yelled, before yanking the platter out of Stheno’s hands and smashing the wieners into her scaly face.


	3. Chapter 3

HER PROTESTS WERE MUFFLED, and sadly none of the _deadly_ snacks got into the monster’s mouth, so she didn’t die. Her sister though, let out a particularly menacing growl and lunged full-force at him. He used the silver tray momentarily as a shield, deflecting about forty percent of her blow. Unluckily, the other sixty percent sent him falling, knocking his knife out of his hand. He had about half a second to put the plate under his butt before he hit the snow.

He skid down uncomfortably, trying his best to avoid small pebbles and trees. He had to kick his legs up high to avoid dragging them, the familiar flapping sound of wings urging him to lean forward and faster. As he got closer to the fence that separated the roads from the rest of the city, he realized he had didn’t really have a way to stop. He was going too fast to simply stomp his legs down flat into the dirty snow unless he wanted to be sprawled on the road like a pancake.

Keith gulped, mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. His enemies were gaining on him, even hurling bits of snow at him in an attempt for him to slow down. At the last second, he decided to jump, just barely landing his two feet back on the platter.

It was like he was snowboarding, albeit in an extremely wobbly fashion. When the fence neared, the raven-haired teen jumped again, grabbing in between the wires and propelling himself over it. The cold spikes ripped at the skin on his palms, which was probably one of the more painful places to get cut. The platter miraculously slid under a gap in the fence and he grabbed it awkwardly with his bloodied hands. It was a blessing that he made it.

The gorgons, the lucky ones they were, just flew over the damn thing like it wasn’t even there. Keith tried not to clench his fists but failed and was met with a stinging pain where his fingers met his palm. He jogged to the edge of the gravel. This was it—he supposed he’d always been the sort of ‘ride or die’ person.

He squinted past the cars and was met with the same ordinary tunnel in the middle, but now he could clearly make out two figures standing on either side of it, like they were guarding the entrance. The two both donned battle-ready armor and helmets. Maybe they were like him...?

He would have to take the chance. “Come _here_! I’ll gut you, demigod scum!” Euryale yelled. Stheno was going to shout something too, but Keith silenced her again by hurling the platter like a frisbee at them, invoking a yelp from each of the gorgons. He took the distraction as his chance to run right into the middle of Californian rush-hour traffic.

Cars honked and swerved, and it might have been one of the scariest moments in Keith’s life. A few drivers cursed and flipped him off, yelling, “Stupid idiot!” It might have been the most truthful thing anyone has ever told him.

He reached the tunnel, only to be faced with two weapons aimed directly at him. The bigger dude had knocked a very real-looking arrow with his bow and his smaller, lankier partner wielded a glowing golden staff. The latter reminded Keith of someone, and the name was on the tip of his tongue. He probably would have remembered if his life wasn’t in danger. “Gods, _please_ don’t kill me!” He begged the strangers, raising his arms in surrender.

The bow-wielder changed his aim towards the sky, and Keith breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The other guy, still eerily familiar in a way Keith couldn’t place, motioned for him to continue into the tunnel. He did, completely ignoring the fact that he was probably going to pass out soon. “I’ll hold them off! Matt, you take the newbie to Allura!” A voice rang from behind them as they passed the entryway.

A pang of disappointment ran through him. The name ‘Matt’ didn’t trigger any memories at all. He followed him through the tunnel, fighting the urge to throw up. “You okay there, bud?”

“Yeah, totally.” He lied through his teeth, choking on a cough.

The tunnel, at first full of wires and normal looking stuff, soon morphed into a cave lit with torches that burned with green fire. He hoped that he wasn’t getting himself into some sort of cult. “Where are we going?” He asked over the sound of gorgon screeches.

“All roads lead to Rome, my dude.”

“Damn, that wasn’t vague at all.” Sarcasm dripped from Keith’s mouth, even in his worn out state.

The tunnel opened up to a sunny field, momentarily blinding him. Matt tugged at his arm and let him out, where he could hear the loud sound of rushing water. _Water._ His subconscious flashed with red flags. _Important. Water._ Keith and Matt slowed to a walk.

He groaned as he rubbed his eyes and slowed to a shaky walk. The first thing he saw was Matt, now helmet-less, but still with his staff ready to fight. The son of Ares took a moment to soak in the other’s appearance, hoping that he’ll recognize something— _anything_.

Matt was a tall and pale white teen. His shoulder-length hair was the color of a chestnut, and his eyes almost matched exactly, if not for the honey-like undertone they had. A pink scar traced his left cheek, most likely having been there for years. He looked like the sort of guy who you would ask to fix your computer. If he was into guys, Keith might have thought him as someone he would date. Or who someone else would date.

The water drew his eyes to itself. It was a river, blue as—

It was as wild as—

Keith looked at Matt again, lost. His staff had somehow gained a point, making it look almost like a…

_Lance._

“Lance!” Keith shouted, the facial features of someone he actually _knew_ brought to the front of his mind. Blue eyes, brown hair, a rambunctious attitude.

“Uh, no,” Matt supplied. “This is called a _spear._ More specifically, a javelin.”

“No, Lance! He’s my best friend! I-I need to find him.”

“W _hat?_ You just got here!”

“I—”

“Oh my gods, MATT! A little help here!?” A shrill voice screamed. Keith turned to see the guy with the bow—who had been supposedly holding the gorgons off, running for his life as he clutched his weapon halfheartedly. Its string had been snapped, likely from the monsters’ claws. Behind him, Stheno snarled viciously as she flew with three arrows embedded in her shoulder. Euryale was the same, except she flew slower with an arrow in each of her scaly shins. Ouch.

“Hold on, Hunk!” Matt urged as he hurled his spear/javelin thing at one of the monsters. He, lamentably, had horrible aim. The weapon soared way past its intended target and landed pitifully on the grass below.

T he adolescent now known as Hunk made a series of frantic gestures to Matt, and it would have been funny if they weren’t in imminent danger. “ _Seriously!”_

“Aw, come on! I needed to practice!”

“Practice when my bow isn’t broken!”

“Uh, _guys_!” Keith stopped their argument, “Can we focus?”

Hunk reached them and anxiously jogged in place. “Ugh. what do we do, what do we _do?_ ”

“Oh, we’ll gut you all once our Master is done with you!” A gorgon promised. It was the first time that Keith had heard of them acting under a larger force. He quirked an eyebrow despite the situation at them.

Hunk started to hyperventilate, and Matt’s face was damp with sweat. Gods, they were going to die. This was it. Just as he had a clue of what he was doing, he was going to get killed by some stupid lizard ladies.

He shut his eyes as they drew their claws, inches from his face…

Nothing.

Besides the sound of Hunk and Matt doing a combination of screaming in terror and sounding like they were having asthma attacks, things suddenly had gone silent. He peeked open his eyes. The gorgons weren’t there anymore—they had just vanished. He glanced over to the other two, hoping they hadn’t disappeared either. Nope, still there.

“How disrespectful,” A voice commented.

Matt and Hunk turned while Keith only perked his ears. “Lady Juno!” The crunching of dirty snow was heard, and it sounded like they were groveling.

“Keith,” she said, aura powerful and demanding. “Face your patron.”

_Patron._ He reluctantly wheeled around to face the woman. His palms throbbed.

Her appearance was that of a middle-aged woman, but without the wrinkles. Long and dark was pulled up into a fanciful bun, with bangs framing her peachy face. Her icy blue eyes were cold and unforgiving. A goat-skin shawl was wrapped around her thin shoulders, complementing the long navy-blue dress she wore. On top of all that, she was also a whopping seven feet tall. Keith had to crane his neck up to properly look her in the eye.

Keith just knew she was the one. That gleam in her eyes, the undertone of malevolence in her stance. “You. You’re the one who erased my mind.”

Juno (whatever kind of stupid name that was) smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, child. Yet, I didn’t wipe all of it, did I? You should be grateful that I even considered you worthy of this duty.”

Keith scoffed and crossed his arms, not even noticing the burn when he flexed his fingers. The woman continued, unblinking. “I am giving you a choice, Keith Kogane. Go back through the tunnel and be free from all harm, retreat to your safety as it is now and be memory-less…”

“Or?”

She smirked again. He knew he was being baited, but after six months of being homeless and running away, Keith was willing. “Or battle in my name and the gods. Cross the River of Rome and lose what has been protecting you all this time—the Mark of Achilles. Of course, you’ll regain your memory as well, though in time.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Take me to your stupid fight.”

Juno, a goddess—Keith realized, nodded and turned away to face a crowd that had somehow formed behind her. The teen had been too distracted to notice. She regarded them with a ridiculously patronizing stare, and it made Keith’s blood boil.

The crowd was mostly made of adolescents like him, dressed in a variety of clothes. Some wore plain casual clothes while others were decked out in full armor or togas. Like Matt and Hunk, they were also bowing low. One girl, however, stood taller than the rest at the front and Keith assumed she was the leader.

“Praetor.” Keith hoped that was a title and not a name. “I present to you the son of Mars, Keith Kogane. Accept him and your Legion will prosper.”

The _praetor_ bowed lowly and nodded. Her lips moved, but from across the rumbling currents of the river, he couldn’t make out what she was saying. Juno tilted her head, but didn’t offer a reply. Instead she raised her arms and made everyone feel compelled to close their eyes. The son of _Mars,_ not Ares, apparently, fought against the feeling but to no avail. He shut his eyes too, if not only for a brief period.

He was encompassed in a warm glow that bitter-sweetly reminded him of happy families before the cold of winter reappeared again. Juno was gone and everybody else had risen from their kneeling positions, now standing tall—like they hadn’t just been groveling.

Matt chuckled hesitantly to his right. “Well then,” he started, “Welcome to the Legion, soldier. Let’s get you settled.” Sometime during Juno’s appearance, Keith had started to feel like somebody had stuffed cotton in his skull. The other teen’s words throbbed in his head, but he ignored it.

Still dazed and breathing heavily, he muttered a small, “Okay,” in reply before letting Matt drag him across the river. He let his guard down, too weary to really pay any attention to what was happening or what he was saying. His act with Juno had drained the last of his strength and the fire in his gut had shrunk, now feeling like barely an ember inside. He vaguely processed that there was a bridge and a loud commotion, but only because once he had crossed it, he had fell face first into something hard. Dewy grass rather than snow flooded his vision, and it took longer than it should have to realize that he was on the ground.

Muffled shouts rang in his ears, but for once he decided to let the exhaustion finally overtake him. He fell into the world of sleep, fatigue settling into his body and mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any tips on how to get better at writing dialogue, please let me know! I'm well aware that I kind of suck at it, lol.
> 
> [EDIT: 3/14/18]: Went back and edited some things! My sentence structures and comma placements were awful, so sorry about that.

WHEN HE WOKE UP IN A BED, Keith thought he had died. His limbs, though still achy, weren’t as sore as they usually would be after rising. He thought he’d get used to sleeping on street corners and park benches after the first couple of nights, but he was wrong. Having a real mattress after so long felt like heaven on earth. There was no way he would be so relaxed if he weren’t dead.

The teen groaned loudly, stretching and contorting his body to pop his joints. It was a relief to crack each and every one of them like they were bubble wrap. He twisted and bent, making sure to soak in the comfort. Man, those stretching lessons from Lance really had benefited him after all. He froze in place, pausing his routine. _Lance._

Keith mulled things over as he sighed and fell back. The ceiling above him was in fact not a ceiling, but the wooden framing of another bunk on top of him, he noted. He recalled the day before. He had remembered something important, his best friend, maybe _only_ friend, Lance Álvarez.

The events of yesterday fully trickled into his fogged mind. He hummed—maybe he had died after all. That invincibility thing—Juno had called it the _Mark of Achilles_ —had obviously worn off. Keith could feel it from the way his bones felt lighter yet more cumbersome at the same time. It was weird, but it was gone. He wondered what exactly that meant for him.

“Dude. That seriously took _forever._ ”

The purple-eyed boy looked around. Sitting on a bunk across from him was a large but muscular guy around his own age. His skin was a dark hue, but due to the lighting of the room they were in, Keith couldn’t exactly make out what it really was. A neon orange headband was wrapped around his black hair, keeping bangs out of his face. His eyes were a brown so dark that the other thought they were black. A vibrant purple t-shirt paired with light-wash jeans contrasted with his headpiece.

Without his armor on, Keith took a while to recognize the boy as Hunk, the other teen guarding the maintenance, no, _entrance_ , tunnel. He was leaning against the wooden wall behind his bed nonchalantly, mixing a bowl of what seemed to be batter with a silicone spatula. The Asian boy squinted. Was the afterlife just this weird, after all?

“Hunk?” Keith grumbled after a moment, voice still pretty hoarse from a long slumber.

“That’s me. Legionnaire since you got here, or whatever.”

“The what now?”

“I’ll explain later. Now get up; you’ve been asleep for like, nine days now.”

“ _Nine days?!?_ Are you serious?”

“Yep,” the other male said as he stood, still mixing his bowl. “Now we can induct you and everything. Oh, don’t give me that look. Allura’s not that bad.”

Keith frowned into his pillow. It wasn’t that he was worried about, but he went along with it anyway. Besides, he didn’t even know who ‘Allura’ was.

“Where _am I_ , though?”

“Camp.” Hunk started to walk away before he could say anything else, and Keith stumbled out of the sheets, slightly dizzy after getting up so fast.

“Wait up!” he huffed, annoyed. He was getting just a bit irritated from not knowing anything.

“Waiting,” Hunk replied teasingly, grinning a little as he stuck a finger in his batter and tasted it. “Mhm. Needs more eggs.”

“What are you making?” They walked out of the room, which Keith noticed had two or three bunk beds, into a short hallway before Hunk paused.

“I don’t know yet. I was trying out something new in the bakery in town when somebody stopped by and told me you sounded like you were gonna wake up soon. Figured I’d stop by so you’d see a face you’d recognize when you woke up.”

“That’s…kind of sweet. Thanks, man.”

“The others say I’m too soft. Not Roman enough. But thanks—I’m glad someone appreciates me.”

Keith didn’t really know what that meant, but he nodded sympathetically. Hunk pushed open a creaky door and Keith’s sensitive eyes were blasted with burning sunlight for the second time. The shorter hissed and covered his eyes. He could hear the other snicker slightly.

“Now, I know you didn’t really get a proper introduction to this place since you kinda sorta passed out, so, welcome to New Rome slash Camp Jupiter!”

The first thing he felt was warmth. That usual sunny, Californian warmth that he usually didn’t get to enjoy because he was busy trying not to die. According to the weather channels he had caught glimpses of, though, San Francisco was still supposed to have more of its rare snow, not sun. Again, he didn’t ponder it too long. A lot of things probably weren’t gonna make any sense.

Here, with the comfort of others who seemed to understand the state he was in, he could fully bask in the glow. When he opened his eyes, the teen fought the urge to gasp in wonder.

The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains, peeking out over the hills. Its light shone over beautiful gardens and Roman-architecture buildings, giving them a golden glow. Some children and adults alike chased each other across the green grass. A few donned an unconventional assort of weapons and armor, but strangely Keith just felt like it was something he was already used to.

“Yeah, our cohort has the best view.”

“Cohort?” the son of Mars/Ares asked after he soaked in the sun enough.

“Yep. Think of them like dorms, or maybe cabins. Each cohort is practically an army with the amount of military training we have. There are like, five cohorts, each with two leaders called ‘Centurions.’ They’re like the senior officers.”

“…Military training?”

“I mean, someone’s gotta defend the home fort from monsters. It’s not like the gods gave us some magical protection barrier.”

“Uhuh...” Keith paused. “You know, when I was running away from the gorgons, they called me a son of Ares. But here, Juno called me a son of Mars. What’s with that?”

“Strange. Ares is the Greek form of Mars, but as far as we know, the Greeks died out millennia ago. The gorgons must have gotten their info wrong.”

“...Okay.”

“We should get going. They’re about to blow the horn for breakfast, and everyone’s practically there already.”

They started walking around the cabin. Hunk told him that he let them take the back way out just for the view. Seriously, the dude was so friendly that Keith didn’t know how to respond, instead complimenting on how well he explained things. The former only chuckled, embarrassed and with a blush.

The two walked in silence while making some small talk, but it quickly died due to the fact that Keith wasn’t really up to date with everything—he couldn’t exactly catch himself up on world events while also avoiding a gorgon’s deadly wiener samples. He decided to hyper-focus on the complicated layout of buildings and various establishments around them. Hunk had briefly mentioned that most demigods like themselves had some forms of ADD/ADHD or dyslexia, which he could understand. He learned from movie posters that the rejects with strange attributes always had the best abilities in them. When he voiced that to his new friend though, he only laughed and shook his head. The violet-eyed boy decided not to comment on anything else, after that.

For a place mostly run by teenagers, as Keith saw, the place was pretty organized. All of the kids, ranging from as young as seven years old to as elderly as someone in their twenties, had their backs straight and heads held high. If he stared too long, it might have become unnerving to see so many child-soldiers.

The buildings were placed in an orderly fashion, almost exactly following a grid-plan to the area. The roads were paved perfectly aligned. Street signs, written most likely in Latin, were carefully painted with a delicate hand. Structures were carefully calculated to fit with each other like intricate puzzle pieces, giving the aesthetic a nice complement. There was nothing the boy could do but just awe at the amount of complexity the place had.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they finally meet...

THEY FOLLOWED SIGNS to a place called the _principia._ He didn’t know what that translated to, but the word reminded Keith too much of the term _principal,_ like the ones they had at school. It made his stomach stir, giving him the feeling that the principal’s office had probably been a frequent place that he had visited. He suddenly felt like he had done something wrong. Hunk had seen the apprehensive expression on his face and tried to reassure him with a quirky comment and a grin. It helped, but only so much.

They stopped at a large building after a surprisingly quick walk. It looked like a government building, or a maybe really old bank. White stairs led up to matching columns that supported the roof. The exterior of the edifice was polished to the point where they could almost see their own reflections in the pale stone it was carved from. Mostly it just reflected the _sun_ into Keith’s eyes, though.

Tired guards stood at a tall, open entryway. It looked like there had probably been doors there at one point, but the hinges appeared to have been blown off. Hunk led him up the stairs carefully while saluting one of the guards.

The soldier waved lackadaisically back at the boy with a smile. “Morning.”

Their interactions were easy-going and comfortable. Even though Hunk had implied that his friends weren’t so appreciative of his cordial tendencies, most of the soldiers seemed to be on good terms with him. A spot of envy spiked through Keith, and he shoved it down. His new friend didn’t deserve that.

His first impression of the one room that inhabited the building when they entered was: Huge. Big. Extra.

Everything was in a bigger size—so much to the point where he’d think they were tiny dolls in a regular sized house. Humongous velvet tapestries lined the walls, some columns peeking out from in between. A mosaic of a wolf and two children was engraved onto the high ceiling. It sparkled as more early morning rays drifted through the doorway.

Glass trophy cases lined the walls, each filled to the brim with medals and other various adornments. They were organized in a fashion where there were five in the middle of other smaller cases surrounding. One was empty, and the teen ignored his need to question it for the millionth time. A long foldable table littered with some scrolls and pencils was pushed to a corner of the room. There weren’t any chairs paired with it.

Two large high backed chairs were placed at the back of the room, next to each other like thrones. Purple decorations lined the edges of the gold plating. One seat was occupied, giving the other a startlingly empty atmosphere.

Keith’s eyes trailed to the woman who sat on one of the chairs. The first thing that struck him was her hair. From the distance that he had seen her talking to Juno, it had been wrapped into a tight bun. Here, it was let down, cascading down her back like a waterfall in neat, thin dreadlocks. The color, though, was what really caught his eye. In a great contrast to her complexion, which was a dark brown with reddish undertones, the leader’s hair was a jaw-dropping silver so light that it almost glowed white.

“It’s genetic,” Hunk whispered, low enough so that she couldn’t hear.

All Keith could think was, _cool._

Her eyes were strangely a dark cerulean blue, like the ocean on a stormy day. A vibrant violet cape was draped over her lithe shoulders, though there was obviously some defined muscle in her limbs. Shaped armor was strapped over her body.

Keith felt the need to bow to her, completely unlike his urge to be defiant towards Juno. Something squeaked, and he and Hunk craned their heads to see two robotic mice crawl out from under her chair.

“ _Argentum_ and _Aurum_ ,” she stated.

“Silver and Gold,” Keith whispered, internally pumping a fist at the fact that he could figure something out for himself.

“Correct, though I did not _ask_ for a translation.”

“Sorry.”

“I am Praetor Allura of the 12th Legion _Fulminata._ My mice do not appreciate liars, so state your business or leave immediately.”

Her voice was soft around the edges and tinted with an English accent. It was almost like she knew exactly how to speak to him. He didn’t really understand how her robot mice could detect lies, but he’d seen weirder.

“My name’s Keith. I woke up in a dumpster a couple months ago with barely any memories. Then those gorgon things started chasing me and I ended up here. I have little knowledge of anything else.”

The mice squeaked, almost as though they were sending him their approval. Although it wasn’t the whole truth, but they didn’t turn into wolves and tear him apart, so he thought he was pretty safe.

“Very well.” There was a short pause before she spoke this time, making him think that there was something she wasn’t letting him know.

Hunk inquired loudly for the first time since they entered, “Will he need to see the augur?”

“No. He has Lady Juno’s and now my own approval. He will be inducted before the games tonight. Dismissed.”

Hunk saluted and elbowed Keith to do the same. He stumbled, fumbling his arms into a pathetic excuse of the gesture that the other made. They bowed lightly and left.

“I’m surprised she didn’t send you to Coran. Even though she’s the praetor, he’s sort of the senior that makes the final decisions for her. He’s basically her mentor.”

“I think…I think she knew me,” Keith replied when they were a safe distance away from the _principia._ Hunk hadn’t told him where they were going yet.

“Knew you?”

“Yeah. Like, before I lost my memories?” He sounded uncertain.

“I don’t know, man. Allura’s been here for like, ever. Since she was born. If she saw you outside of camp, it would be a stretch.”

Keith shrugged in a way that showed that he didn’t really have an answer. After a quick walk, they stopped at another Graceo-Roman styled building. It was mid-morning now, as they could tell from the sun still being a bit high in the east. He could vaguely make out plumes of steam billowing out from the center of the place. The smell of flowery soap filled his nostrils as Hunk held the door open.

“Roman bathhouse,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“You mean—”

“Nada. We’ve got more private showers too, don’t worry. But if you’re feeling really adventurous on your first day, you could totally check out the—”

“No thanks.” Hunk was hastily cut off before he could say anything else. They entered the bathhouse, and it took everything in Keith not to stare.

There were bodies _everywhere._ People of all ages sat completely naked around pools of water, just chatting casually. The teen felt his own cheeks blossom with heat. He tried to look at anything but everyone else. The floor—no. It had reflections from the water that people had splashed onto it. The walls—no! Who put mirrors on the walls of a _bathhouse?_

Hunk chuckled a bubbly sound somewhere to his left. “Come on, buddy. You’ll get used to it.” He planted a hand on Keith’s shoulder, making him flinch slightly. Thankfully, it was only to lead him to a separate area where people _didn’t_ have a such a shortage of clothes.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped away from Hunk. Maybe physical contact wasn’t what he really needed right then. Thankfully, the Roman understood. He grabbed a drawstring packet from behind him and handed it to Keith.

“They’re toiletries. Teeth stuff, hair stuff, soap, clothes, etcetera.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“It’s legion-standard—everyone gets one of these just in case they need them. I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Meet me back at the barracks and we’ll grab breakfast.”

“Sure.”

 

 

Getting cleaned up was a relief. Having still been in the street clothes that he had first stolen ages ago, getting rid of them was like the best thing that had ever happened. Showering, shaving his awful stubble, and brushing his teeth felt like he was a fish that had finally been returned to the sea after far too long. Not to his surprise, the clothes that he had been issued were exactly the same as the ones that Hunk had been wearing. There were also some feminine hygiene products stuffed neatly into a pocket of the bag, but after thanking the gods that he didn’t need them for the torture that some people went through, he gave them away to some lady who gladly appreciated it.

Hunk was exactly where he said he would be, and gladly Keith wasn’t someone who easily forgot his way around. They took a slightly longer stroll to an outdoor lounge area near the principia, filled haphazardly with couches and low tables. A transparent ceiling-like tarp shaded the platform where the meals were eaten.

Somehow food was being floated in the air, whizzing around like they were being thrown by invisible spirits. At a closer glance, Keith _could_ make them out—wispy women-like shadows giggling and tossing food around. Some unfortunate kid stood up too fast and got hit in the face with scrambled eggs; others were splattered with pancake syrup as another spirit floated past them. None of the soldiers seemed bothered and continued to eat calmly, even with bits of food flung into their hair. Someone waved them over from between the crowd, and Hunk and Keith struggled to get there without any casualties.

They were led to a pretty inconvenient spot that was smack in the middle and a little bit to the left near a building that was labeled as the kitchen. There was where most of the food-traffic was, so they had to constantly dodge plates left and right. Matt, as Keith recalled, was the one who had waved them over, happily chugging a glass of orange juice while holding a plate of half-eaten bacon.

He handed more plates of food to the two of them, each with a stack of pancakes and about ten pounds of syrup. Hunk had toast on the side, though. Keith and Hunk each muttered a thanks and sat down.

“Keith, right? Seen Allura yet?” Matt asked in between bites of his meal.

At the sound of his name, a lot of eyes flicked towards him. He was now the center of attention, even if Matt hadn’t been that loud.

“Um, yeah…” The son of Mars rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

Matt clapped his shoulder harshly in what probably was meant to be a friendly gesture, but it only succeeded in making the other teen choke on bits of his pancake. He coughed into his hand, nervous.

“So what’s the deal?”

Keith eyed him quizzically.

“You know, with Lady Juno and all that.”

“Oh. I don’t really know anything except for the fact that she probably took my memory.”

Matt nodded understandingly. “Of course. You hear that, y’all? Now get back to your food!”

Everybody else went back to chowing. Keith was silently thankful; he wasn’t fond of the attention.


	6. Chapter 6

AFTER EATING, CAME TRAINING. Hunk and Matt, his newfound friends, had explained the basics of how the camp—Camp Jupiter—worked while they had eaten. At every mention of the word ‘camp,’ Keith couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia. He didn’t know where it came from, and by the looks of it, the two soldiers he had befriended didn’t know either. They treated him like acquaintances.

A horn had been blown, and all the campers (he felt way more comfortable calling them that than ‘ _soldiers’_ ) had hastily cleared the area and handed their plates, some clean and some still piled with food, to the wind spirits. Keith had clumsily followed their lead, almost tripping over an armchair in the process. Hunk had left him in the responsible hands of Matt, grabbing his mixing bowl and off to cook his new batter. Keith had almost forgotten that he had it.

Now, Matt was showing him around Camp Jupiter and New Rome, a city-section of the place. It was like a whole other civilization was behind that San Francisco maintenance tunnel.

“It is,” Matt said, after Keith accidentally voiced his thoughts aloud. “We Romans are very strong on structure. _Pluto_ , we even color-code everything!”

“Because what are you guys, _animals?_ ” Someone replied, making the two demigods pause on their way to the arena—the next stop on Keith’s tour of the camp. (Well, it was more of Matt stopping, and the other guy running into him _._ )

Matt suddenly grinned like the Cheshire Cat, ecstatic. “Pidge!”

He turned to a tree that looked a lot like it was randomly placed—being in the middle of some barracks—and sprinted at breakneck speed towards it. At the last second, someone stepped out from behind it, allowing themselves to be bear-hugged by the brunette. Keith caught a glimpse of brown clothes and glasses, before Matt spun them around in circles.

“Alright, alright, you big dork. Let me go!” they protested, but their tone was light and playful.

Reluctantly, the teen released his grip on the other and raised his arms in surrender. “Sorry, it’s just been a while. You know what it’s like, sis.”

Finally, Keith got a good look at her. With the same chestnut-colored hair and honey-hued eyes as her brother, the teen looked almost exactly the same as Matt. They could have been twins. The only difference was that the young woman’s hair was cut into a short bob, and large round-framed glasses sat atop the bridge of her straight nose. She was also a good bit shorter, at maybe 5’3 or 5’4.

“Hiya! I’m…Pidge.” She started to introduce herself to Keith, but as soon as she made eye-contact with the son of Mars, her voice faltered and stuttered.

A flash of heat struck through Keith, and he gulped. _She knew him too._

He narrowed his eyes almost to the point where his vision became blurry. There was something about her clothes, her glasses, the way she spoke with a curious lilt in her tone. Maybe if he stared long enough he’d remember.

“Keith,” he nodded curtly.

Pidge shuffled around, kicking at the patches of grass and weeds that grew around the tree she stepped from. Her glasses were perched crookedly on her face, and despite her cat-like disposition, she seemed tired. Bags that almost rivaled his own traced the outer corners of her blank eyes. Her hair was disheveled and the brown and green jumpsuit she wore was wrinkled.

“So what’s new?” Matt asked her excitedly before Keith could say anything else. The taller sibling caught himself being a little rude after a short pause, though, and discarded his earlier remark. “My younger sister is kind of a roamer around here, so she doesn’t stay at camp like the rest of us. In fact, she’s—”

“Ready to train! Haha, yeah. Matt, wanna see how fast we can code the holo-scrolls?” Pidge chuckled, a bit too enthusiastically. It was obvious she was trying to keep something from the raven-haired demigod. He stomped on the urge to pry. Even if all he wanted was to shake her shoulders and yell at her face until he received an answer, something, maybe anxiety or some other internal force, made him resist. He would know soon, he hoped.

“You made _holo-scrolls?_ Dude!”

Pidge scrambled to pull something out of her pocket. It was a tiny device, almost resembling a USB drive. She pressed a tiny button on the side of it and a screen materialized into the air in front of them, like a vertical projector.

The display was tinted orange, which made something in Keith’s mind click. He just didn’t know what it was. Matt didn’t seem to notice or care, but Pidge eyed him suspiciously.

“We—I mean, _I,_ managed to convince the rainbow goddess to help us out on this one. The display is purely mist-technology.” She waved a hand through the projection of a keyboard, and instead of flickering, the display stayed, even if it was a bit faint. Her hand came back wet, like she had just washed them. “She left the touch-features up to us, though.”

Keith pretended not to notice her slip-up. _We. Us._ There were others with Pidge and red-alarms blared in his head. It was like hearing the smoke alarm but not knowing where the fire was coming from—while being trapped in a room without doors. He grit his teeth.

“ Keith,  _ buddy.  _ I’ve just got to do this. Do you wanna come with?”  Matt said.

“Uh, no thanks. I think I’ll explore a bit more.”

“Sure, dude. Just don’t get into too much trouble or they might make you clean the stables with a toothbrush. Roman punishments are pretty harsh.”

Matt and Pidge walked away, with the younger sibling giving one last glance at Keith, before trailing after her brother.

_ Wait.  _ Where did she even come from?

Keith glared at the tree in between the barracks, like it had just  stabbed his dog. It barely seemed like anyone could hide behind its thin trunk.

He circled it, studying its  tinted gray bark. Something shone from a nook carved into it, a glimmer that he probably wouldn’t have ever noticed if he wasn’t looking for  anything that stood out.

Before he could investigate it any closer, however, the sound of footsteps behind him made him swivel around. The Praetor, Allura, was standing in her armor with hands on her hips.

“Soldier,” she addressed. “You should be training.” Her hands were on her curved hips, one grasping a red-handled whip.

“Training?”

“Come with me. You have a sword, correct? We’ll show you how to use it properly.”

“What sword?”

“Check your pockets. Lady Juno should have gifted one to you.”

He reached inside the opening in his jeans. Sure enough, an object was tucked inside.

“Its a pen.”

Allura’s eyes glinted, almost like she wanted to roll them.

“Click it, you fool.”

He pressed the top of the ballpoint pen, expecting it to work just like any other writing utensil. Instead, a white-blue glow erupted from his hands, and a second later there was a blade resting in his palm.

With a red streak in the middle, the white blade looked like a cross between a giant 5 and a half foot dagger and a hand-held saw. The handle was horizontal instead of vertical, making it easier to make straight cuts and stab at straight angles.

The aura of it was familiar and comforting  like he had used it before . He didn’t think it was a gift from Juno, but rather from someone else who actually  cared .

“ Sweet.”

Allura nodded in confirmation. To what, Keith didn’t know.

“Come,” she didn’t wait for him to follow, and started to stride off with straightened shoulders and a high chin. Like a princess.

Keith gulped hard.

The training arena was in a totally different area than everything else. Allura had wordlessly led him through several different gates and gardens, explaining the different names of each sections and the like. They had stopped a little longer at the _Gardens of_ _Altea_ _,_ which was her favorite spot.

He could have guessed it. The air around the plants was clean and refreshing, being in a more secluded nook of the camp. A clear fountain was there, complemented with a sign and some flowery bushes.

After that, it had gone silent again. Allura didn’t seem like one for small talk, unlike Hunk. Yet, the air wasn’t awkward or tense. He felt safe with her.

They finally seemed to be getting somewhere when they entered walled city surrounded by statues of this same guy without any arms or legs.

“His name is Terminus, god of boundaries,” the Praetor explained.

“Cool,” he replied, not expecting the statue to talk when they had passed the wall.

“Weapons!” It screeched. “Confiscate the weapons!”

Keith jumped maybe five whole feet into the air, startled. “What in the—”

“You there, boy!” The statue’s head twisted to look behind it’s body, stony eyes staring into the son of Mars’ soul. “Hand over the weapon to the little one over there.”

Allura didn’t seem phased, and pointed to a young girl who was holding a tray. Other weapons were discarded onto there as well, varying in types. Guns and daggers, pepper spray and walking sticks.

“She’ll deliver them when we go to the Colosseum’s arena. Weapons aren’t allowed in the main city for…safety reasons.”

He briefly wondered what the story behind that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update might be a little late, sorry!

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://inkkedalone.tumblr.com/) or [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/inkkedalone/) @ inkkedalone!


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